


Keep All Your Attention On Me

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fem!Keith, Grinding, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, kureith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: “I wore those panties you like so much,” her voice is quiet but loaded.He unzips her shorts, pulling down the denim a little.“You’re not wearing any underwear?”He looks at her in time to see the most dangerous smirk she’s ever worn.“Exactly.”





	Keep All Your Attention On Me

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure self indulgence.   
> i rly love fem keith. like a lot. and have had such a major kureith thirst these past few days.

No matter what anyone says, or thinks, or does, there’s something truly spectacular about being the centre of attention.  If anyone else says otherwise; they’re fucking lying. 

Being the centre of attention is _everything_ to Kuro.  It probably (in fact, most definitely) has something to do with his extremely-high brother complex.  Not even exaggerating, for years growing up, Kuro honestly wished Shiro would drop dead. 

He didn’t feel guilty about it either.

The day Shiro had gone missing in the woods for three days had been the best three days of his life.  Yes, no one paid attention to him (they never did anyway), but he knew once his brother was confirmed dead, all of that grieving and expectancy would turn to him.  All the obsession, all the love, all the affability would be his.  Kuro had been so hyped, so prepared, to bathe in all the expectations his family had had for his brother, which would then be placed on himself.

Because he was better than Shiro.  In every way.  He was stronger, faster, smarter.  More attractive (even though their own goddamn _mother_ argued they looked exactly the same).

It was just Kuro’s dumb fucking luck when Shiro had been found alive.

Now armless and covered in butt-fuck ugly scars, but for the most part okay.  Plus, once he was fitted with a fancy new robot arm and his hair grew back, even though it was a garish shade of white, he was better than before and, once again, the centre of attention.

Even more so than ever.

Kuro’s bad luck seemed to want to trail him to college like a sick puppy at his heels, when both of them received their acceptance to the Garrison at the same time.  Except for the fact that Shiro had managed to score the scholarship, so now Kuro was the expensive child.  Now he got to deal with their mother constantly complaining about never going on holidays or even out to fancy restaurants because they were busy paying off his tuition. 

Kuro learnt just to hang up the phone, or leave the room, anytime money seemed to be becoming a part of the conversation.

Honestly, Kuro had just considered not going at all.  What was the point if he was just going to be outshined by his dipshit brother the whole time anyway?  If he changed schools, he could pick somewhere far away from his family, pretend he didn’t even have a family, and make his own limelight.  Yet, the Garrison hadn’t just been Shiro’s dream.  It had been both of theirs.  Back when they were kids and Kuro didn’t hate his brother’s fucking guts.

So, moving day had come.  They packed what little belongings they could fit in their shared truck, and moved only a few hundred miles away to attend college at one of the most prestigious space exploration schools in the country. 

It took mere weeks for Kuro to come to the conclusion that he was so fucking glad he did.

Because here, in this life, there was very little he had to share with his brother.  Very little of his brother he had to put up with.  They excelled in two different parts of the school, found different friends, different circles of people to hang out with.  Kuro immediately classed himself as the big shot on his side of the campus, the alpha dog, and promptly bit down on anyone who tried to take that away from him.

He was annoying in class (but only because he was smarter than the teachers, and they knew that), he was fawned over by both chicks and guys left and right  He was sought after by everyone for acceptance, approval, to even get a clap on the back, a brief glimpse of his glory.  Kuro fucking loved it.  Bathed in it.  Drenched himself to the bone in popularity and decadence.

It was no surprise to anyone when Kuro took lead singer and guitarist in the Garrison’s hottest band.  For someone who lived off all eyes being on him all the time, it was a no brainer when the spot opened up, and Kuro had an electric guitar gathering dust in his closet. 

As the last notes fade and the crowd seems to get louder in his ears, Kuro takes a deep breath.  Mostly because remembering all your chord progressions, singing and moving around on stage is far more exhausting than what they’ll ever tell you.  His neck is dripping with sweat, gathering on the back of his shirt.  The crowd is roaring in his ears, the house around them practically shaking from the noise.

Kuro grins, waves to the audience, and then flips them all the bird as he gets off stage with the rest of the band.

There’s a shared bubble of enthusiasm between them.  They all share knowing looks, aware that they just played like they never had before, reaching a new level of best.  Kuro was grinning from ear to ear as he listened to Rolo drone on about how great his bass had felt, somehow simultaneously still finding the time in all his gloating to hit on Nyma.  Kuro was surprised Nyma hadn’t stabbed one of her drum sticks into his eyeballs yet.  Their second guitarist had to break up their bickering before just that happened.

Just as they managed to get their instruments packed away, packs of fans and screeching girls swarmed them.  Kuro had trouble actually hearing what any of them were saying, his ears still ringing, just grinned devilishly at them and took all compliments offered to him.  Some of his regular groupies asked him to sign their tits.

It only began to die down when someone turned on the stereo, filling the room with more loud music, to which the group surrounding them finally dispersed in hopes of getting a dance in while sucking down more beer.  Kuro took the last slaps on his back with grace, before shoving everyone off.  He made his way into the kitchen, filling a plastic cup with as much beer as it would hold.

“You played well tonight,” an all too familiar voice said behind him.  Kuro took his time filling his cup before he turned around to see his brother.

“Duh,” was what Kuro so graciously replies with.  “How else would I have played?”

Shiro, completely used to Kuro’s arrogant behaviour, rolls his eyes.

“You can say ‘thank you’ sometimes, you know?  I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“And ruin my hard-earned reputation?  I don’t think so.”

“Hard-earned reputation of being a jackass?”

Kuro swallows as much of his drink as he can. 

“You mean badass.”

Shiro only nodds at him, turning to leave.

“Hey, have you seen my girlfriend?” Kuro calls after him. 

Shiro gives him a knowing look, raising his eyebrows and holding one hand up in the air while the other cups his mouth in what looks like a ridiculous scuba diver impersonation.  Kuro grins at how ridiculous his brother looks while doing it, but he gets the message.

Once outside, the night air feels good on his flushed skin.  He takes a giant gulp of his drink, then makes his way around the pool toward where the keg stands were happening.  The crowd (of mostly already very drunk men) were chanting and screaming as the figure in the middle of them all performed for them.

Kuro, being thicker than all of them, manages to shrug his way through, and was met with a most alluring sight. 

If Kuro could pick one way to describe Keith, it would be liking keeping kerosene and a lit match in a bottle.  It’s like having an illusion of control.  The flame burns and fights its way around the edge, singeing the inside of the glass, turning it black, before you finally uncork it only to have the flame roar out at you, burning your fingers in the process and probably taking your eyebrows with it.  You realise too late you can’t control it at all.

Just like Kuro could never control Keith.  Not that he’d ever try.

Keith was currently perched over the keg, legs up in the hair, perfectly straight as she held herself up with little no effort.  The tap was held tight between her teeth, he face a beautiful shade of pink, telling Kuro she had obviously been upside down for a while.  Her shirt had fallen down around her neck, her bra on full display, the tattoo she had on her hip peeking out from her denim shorts.

She notices him standing there, daring to let go of the keg with one hand to wave at him for a split second before righting her balance.  Kuro whistles.   He turns to one of the frat boys egging her on.

“How long has she been like this?” he calls over the roaring crowd Keith had gathered.

“She’s going on thirty seconds!” He calls back, eyes immediately turning back to Keith’s chest. 

Kuro smirks at Keith, who doesn’t look anywhere close to giving up yet.

It’s closer to sixty seconds before Keith spits the tap out of her mouth, and graciously lets her legs fall to the ground, hair spilling over her shoulders as she springs back into an upright position.  Everyone cheers.  She grins at her audience, does a little twist of her hips, before finally pulling her shirt back down.

Keith takes a bow, like she deserves too, then turns and sidles her way up to Kuro.

“You finished!” she says, looping her arms around his waist, so tiny she’s unable to reach his shoulders comfortably.  “How’d it go?”

She’s warm and soft against him.  Kuro can already feel the twinge of arousal beginning.  He covers her back with one hand, pulling her even close, bending down to cover her lips with his.  She kisses back immediately. 

They both taste like beer, both smell like sweat, but both could care less.  Keith let’s her head fall back into Kuro’s waiting palm, where he nestles her hair between his fingers, probing at her lips with his tongue.  She opens her mouth hungrily, letting Kuro suck on her tongue, moaning sweetly at the feel of it.

He wants to push his leg between hers, have her grind up against him in the middle of whose-ever-this-is’ backyard.  Would happily feel up under her shirt, and that pretty lace bra, in front of all these people if she’d let him.

Which, honestly, she probably would.

But Kuro found his lack of class came to a screeching holt at letting other’s watch a free porn show of him feeling up his girlfriend.  Maybe if they paid…

They separate with an obscene noise.  Keith leans back as far as Kuro will let her, looking him in the eyes.

“That good, huh?”

He chuckles, pulling her in for another sticky kiss, the taste of her lip gloss still lingering on his tongue even through the rancid taste of beer.  She grins while he kisses her, lets him lap at her lips like a dog, then starts to edge out of his arms, dragging him toward the house.

Kuro whines at the separation.

“I know which rooms have been kept locked, and where the keys are.”

Kuro stops his whining and follows her.

They manage to make their way through the jiving crowd and the bustling, drunk, hoard of people just fine, but run smack into trouble on their way up the stairs.  Kuro keeps a strong hand on Keith’s waist as he gives his brother a questioning look.

“Thought we weren’t allowed upstairs?” Kuro questions. 

Shiro arches an eyebrow.

“I could say the same to you.”  There’s an awkward silence stretched between the three of them.  “Downstairs bathroom has been compromised.  Someone threw up on the floor…and in the shower and on the mirror.”

Keith scrunches up her nose at the thought.

“Allura opened the upstairs bathroom to those of us who are trying to remain sober.”

“Is that who’s house this is?  Props to her for her interior decorating.”

Shiro rolls his eyes.

“If you two are going to have intercourse…”

“Who are you?  Our grandma?  Just calling it fucking, bro.”

Keith sniggers into Kuro’s shoulder.

“…than go home and do it,” Shiro finishes.  “I don’t want stains getting onto one of the guest beds and, trust me, Allura will know it was you.”

Both Kuro and Keith groan at the thought of keeping their hands off each other for any longer.  Already, standing here having this conversation is a stretch.

Shiro only gives them a disapproving scowl before continuing down the stairs.

Kuro and Keith wait an appropriate amount of time before ignoring him completely and hurrying the rest of the way up to the guest bedroom.

Keith lifts her shirt and wrestles a small key out from the under her bra and slips it into the lock, pulling Kuro inside after her and slamming the door shut.  The sound of it locking behind them is almost better than the sound of Kuro’s band playing.

Almost.

Then Keith is yanking him down by his shirt for a very hot, very wet kiss, arching into it and moaning lewdly.

Okay.  That’s better than the sound of his band playing.

“Oh, honey,” Kuro breathes against her lips, slipping is hands onto her ass, lifting so she wraps her legs around his waist and clings to his shoulders. 

The thing about Keith, is that she always puts on a show.  Whatever she’s doing, she has to make it a performance.  So, when Kuro dumps her onto the bed, she immediately whines for him, arching her chest and pulling up her shirt a tantalising inch or so, showing off her flat stomach, belly-button piercing glinting under the light streaming in from outside. 

She looks at him.

Kuro only gazes back.

Her eyes are heavy with a need probably born sometime that afternoon when they had been making out instead of setting up the band equipment.  She smiles, soft and barely there, hair curling over her forehead and around her chin.  She lifts a hand, hooking a dainty finger under her shirt and pulling it up her body.

Kuro growls as more and more skin is put on display for him.  Her fingers reach her breasts, the shirt sliding over them.  Keith rises off the bed to pull it over her shoulders and fling it to the other side of the room.  Then she lifts a foot, gracefully pulling on the laces until her boot comes loose so she can kick it off.  It feels like an eternity as her sock is peeled off, a tiny foot flexing its toes at him, as if beckoning him closer. 

He kneels on the bed, helping her with her other boot and sock, then carefully takes a calf in between his hands and places a kiss onto the smooth skin.  Keith smells faintly of fruit, but is ultimately warm under his fingers.  Kuro kisses up Keith’s leg, getting comfortable between her thighs as he does, leaving attention along every inch of skin he can before reaching her shorts.

Her breath hitches, in that delicate way it does when she knows Kuro is up to something.

Kuro looks up.  Keith is resting against some pillows, propped up enough to be able to look at him directly as he stares at her.

Her dark eyes are bottomless as she stares back, that coy smile still in place, daring him to do exactly what he wants and more.

Kuro was never one to turn down a dare.

He pops the button of her shorts open, presses his nose against her stomach, licking a strip all the way up her navel, over the centre of her bra, between her breasts and to her neck.  She arches into him as he does, nails find their way to his back and rake over his shirt.  He immediately begins to suck a spot into her neck.  Her crotch finds his, his hard on growing painful in his jeans but the friction against hers make it oh-so worth it.  Keith lets out a little breathy moan as he holds her to him, grinding down onto her, teeth pinching her delicate skin.  She moans louder when he presses her into the bed in a long, hard, rock of his hips.

“That’s it, gorgeous.  Tell me what you like.”

Their voices are quiet, but seem to echo in the room around them. 

Keith hooks a thigh over Kuro’s hip, where Kuro lets his hand glide over the warm skin.  He kisses her fully on the mouth, licking into her, then uses strong hands to spread her thighs entirely. 

Keith is letting out more and more little moans, little hitches of breath in pleasure.  Kuro kisses back down her body, paying special attention to her breasts, squeezing them in his palms.  They roll so beautifully under his fingers, fitting into his hands as if they were moulded onto her body just for him.  Then he slips his hands under her bra entirely, rolling her nipples, watching her watch his hands as he teases and plays with her.

She moans, her legs spreading wider.

He takes the opportunity to unhook her bra entirely, thankful she decided to wear the one where hook is at the front, so it’s easier to get her naked. 

“Kuro,” she whines so beautifully, looking up at him.  Spit-soaked lips and already mussed hair, pleading eyes, an arching back as he continues to leave finger print shaped bruises on her breasts. 

God, she’s beautiful.  His gorgeous girl.  His little flame.

He leans in for another kiss before making his way back down her body.

He’s at her navel again when she speaks.

“I wore those panties you like so much,” her voice is quiet but loaded.

He unzips her shorts, pulling down the denim a little, greeted by her bare folds, already slick and dripping wet, her clit peeking out, begging him for attention.

“You’re not wearing any underwear?”

He looks at her in time to see the most dangerous smirk she’s ever worn.

“Exactly.”

He groans, accepting his fate of being under Keith’s spell so long as he lives, and kisses her there.  She immediately arches into his mouth, her legs now caught in her shorts and straining to spread around his ears.  He yanks them off, determined to have her completely naked before he does anything else.  He shucks off his own shirt in the process, unbuckling his belt and letting some of the pressure off his hard prick.

He dives back in.

Keith screams.  It’s breathy and high-pitched, unable to be heard downstairs over the booming music coming up through the floor, but as she only seems to gush harder against his fingers, he knows there’s more volume in silence here.

“Fuck, Kuro!” Her hand is in his hair, gripping it tight, though she could never have enough strength to hurt him. 

He plays with her pussy, licking over her clit again and again.  She jumps slightly every time he does, sobbing against the pillows as she tries to look down at him as his tongue darts out, digging into her hard, making her back snap into a beautiful bend like a bow being bent in his grasp.  He plays her like that for a while, letting her get so close to her orgasm before pulling away, sucking on her inner thigh, playing with her slick.

She kicks him in the back when he does it a third time, telling him to hurry up. 

He chuckles.

“So impatient, kitten,” he murmurs, licking up her folds again.  She throws her head against the pillows again.

“Shut up,” she manages to gasp out.  “Shut up and make me come, or I’ll go get your brother.”

Kuro pauses only minutely.

He knows she’s joking.  Knows she’s in no way serious.  That’s a war that she’d never dare start again.

Because Kuro had already won.  Actually, he conquered.  He tore that battlefield apart and kept the remaining pieces for himself.  The one competition both brothers had entered, and Kuro had come out visibly on top.  No doubt about it.  She had chosen him.

And it felt good.

Every time Keith is like this in his arms (pliant, soft, warm and eager; not being a snarky bitch) he has a small memory of that time.  Of falling so quickly and inexplicably for Keith he was so sure he could never fall any further ever again.  Of getting close to her, becoming her friend, her confidant, and slowly, her fuck-buddy. 

He figured itds be easy from there.  Take her on a proper date, tell her how he felt (gag), and welcome her into his arms where he’d never let anyone else touch her ever again.

Then Shiro.

Somehow, someway, Shiro had wormed his way in, where an unmistakable envy was then tattooed across Kuro’s forehead.  He had been so sure, too.  So sure that he’d lose, again, and lose someone so precious he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle the rejection.

So, when Keith gets like this, or when she’s sitting on his lap in front of all their friends, or waving to him from the football fields while shaking her ass in that cheerleader uniform that looks so good on her, he can’t help but feel smug. 

Kuro’s not usually a petty man…okay, he is.

He’s not a gloating man though…okay, he is.

He can’t help it.

He won.  He fucking won, and it feels good to think every time, in anyway, he’s reminded that Keith is _his,_ that she chose him.

“Kuro,” he’s brought back to the present by her needy gasp as his fingers glaze over her clit just right, rub it a little on his way through her folds and up over her navel.  Her slick shines on her stomach, a thin trail on her skin, sticky and wet.  He growls against it.

He gets off the bed to slide his pants and boxers over his knees and kicks them off his ankles.  Keith gives his body a very long glaze over, giving an appreciative hum at his erect dick, leaking pre-come like crazy, glistening red even in the limited light they have.  He flexes a few times, strikes a few poses for her benefit, because it makes her laugh, and she’s adorable when she laughs.

He crawls back over her, kissing her breasts as he does.

She’s under him, hands at the nape of his neck, chest rising and falling.  Her hair is in her eyes, so he pushes it away and kisses her.  She uses what little strength she has to nudge him completely against her. 

His dick brushes her heat, slipping over her.  She moans, shudders, arches.  Her legs wind around him.  She moves her hips, grinding against him like that.  Kuro growls against her neck, trying to comprehend how wet she feels, how easily she slips over his dick, giving him delicious friction and brushing her clit in the process.

It’s gloriously wet down there, gross and sticky, but this grinding feels so unbelievably good he wishes he could have a constant erection just to feel it. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpers, face buried into the crook of his neck as she continues to fuck herself.  “Oh my god, I love it.  I love this.”

He presses her into the mattress, letting her rut against him.  He meets her thrusts with slow grinds.  It’s only getting messier down there.

So much for keeping the guest beds clean.

“I love your hot dick against my wet pussy.”

Christ, Keith has a mouth on her.

“Me too,” he growls into her ear.  “But I can think of a better place for it.”

“You better have brought a condom, Tadashi Shirogane, or I swear to God!”

Kuro bites her neck at the use of his full name.

He manages to (not very gracefully) lean over the side of the bed and fish his wallet out of his jeans.  The condom slips out of its foil packet easily and slips over his rigid cock without fuss.  Keith sits up, motioning Kuro should kiss her.  He does, heavily, and she wraps her lithe fingers around his dick and gives him a few good, hard strokes, playing with the head a little, in that way he know she knows he likes.  He gasps when she finally lets him go.

“For good luck,” she whispers, hot against his lips, before falling back onto the pillows.

He wastes no time in hoisting her legs over his hips, lining himself up and pushing into her. 

She moans, breathy and beautiful, their eyes never leaving each other’s as he glides in without a hitch.  She gasps when he bottoms out, looking her dead in the eyes, hands either side of her shoulders as he adopts a fast and brutal rhythm.

Which is just fine with the both of them.

He fucks her long and hard, hot kisses rained down on her neck, her shoulders.  He lifts a hand to paw at her breast, rolling her nipple under his thumb so her breath hitches and her hips rut against his harder.  He kisses her on the mouth so she can’t scream, so she’s clawing at his back, fingernails leaving stinging welts in their wake.  Kuro doesn’t mind, not when she’s gasping his name into his mouth, his tongue brushing hers as he does.

“God, Kuro.  Please,” she begs with her eyes, long eyelashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks. “D-do that thing.  The one that makes me scream.”

He smirks at her, wide and deadly.

“You’ll have to be more specific, darling.”

She somehow manages to smack a pillow over his head, shoving it against his chest in show.  He laughs, pulling back so he can roll her over, the pillow going under her hips.

He pushes back in, hands gripping her hips hard, her legs sliding out from under her.  Kuro’s thrusts and Keith’s widespread position mean her cunt is rutting over the pillow as he fucks into her, massaging her clit, making her see stars as she forces herself back onto him.  His thrusts are slow and deep, building up the pleasure for the both of them.

Kuro lets his head fall back, eyes closed as he just _feels._ Keith’s warmth around his aching prick.  Her soft skin under his fingers.  His thrusts mean sparks of white heat race up and down his spine, gathering in his abdomen and making it increasingly harder to keep a steady pace.  His movements become faster, his dick thrusts becoming sloppy and shallow.  Keith only arches harder against the bed.

“Kuro,” she breathes, shoulders shaking as she tries not to hold herself up.  He bends over her, chest against her back, both slicked with sweat and reeking of booze.  He doesn’t care.  Not when he shifts his hands to feel under her.  He’s got nothing to hold himself up now, so his entire body is on hers.  She shakes at the weight on top of her.

One hand gropes at her breasts, another slides down her stomach and feels for her clit.  She whimpers and whines when he finds it, when he begins to abuse it.  It’s hard to keep his finger centred over it when she’s so wet, when she’s literally dripping into his palm, but he makes do.  Makes sure to continuously keep his finger moving in tight circles around her. 

Her hips jump, fighting against the pleasure both inside and out, unknowing which way to go to get more but to also get less.  He doesn’t let up, just keeps thrusting into her tight heat, buries his face into her hair, and comes when she does.

Keith’s clenching around him, so beautifully he could write entire songs about her pussy.  She’s shaking as she orgasms hard underneath him, gasping, panting.

Kuro pulls out, careful not to move her too much.  He deposits his condom in a trash bin, uncaring Allura will find it later and have his balls for it, because Shiro has probably already ratted them out.  He wonders about finding something to wipe them clean with, but figures they’ve already made enough of a mess that there’s little to no point.

“Come cuddle with me, you bitch,” Keith cuts through his thoughts.

She’s already under the covers, so clearly has the same idea about the mess.  Kuro figures he can foot the cleaning bill, like a gentleman.

“Alright, alright, you impatient slut,” he’s laughing as he says it. 

Climbing under the covers and settling beside her isn’t as gross as he thought it’d be.  Keith curls against him, so fucking tiny and soft Kuro wonders how she hasn’t been broken in half by him yet.  She’s tough as nails on the inside, but on the outside, she’s literally fairy floss on legs.

Beautiful, but delicate as a doll.

“God, that’s just what I needed after this week,” Keith mumbles against his chest.  She’s smiling, sated and serene, sliding a hand up Kuro’s torso and running soothing circles over his chest.  Kuro lets his chest rumble in an appreciative growl.  Keith giggles.

“That spotter still being a little prick?” He asks, a hand winding into her hair.  He plays with the dark strands.

“She claims she’s good enough to be a flyer, but I keep telling her all the flyer positions were taken when she joined the squad and she’s just going to have to wait her turn.  Fucking children.”

Kuro chuckles, fingers grazing Keith’s scalp.  She hums happily at the feeling.

“How about your classes?  You get team assignments next week, right?” Keith asks.

Kuro nods against her.

“Yeah.  I bet you fifty bucks they pair me with my brother, just because ‘our talents are so similar’.  Bullshit.  They just want convenience, and it comes in two identical packages.”

“It makes sense though,” Keith reaches over to take Kuro’s free hand, interlacing their fingers.  “The best engineer should have the best pilot to fly his ship, after all.”

Kuro hums.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She laughs and kisses his chest.

It’s quiet for a moment, the party continuing around them.  Kuro had completely forgotten about it.  Forgotten there were other people other than them in this universe. 

“Will you still love me, even when you’re in space?” Keith asks suddenly, voice so quiet and small, Kuro wouldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t been waiting for her to speak.

Kuro shifts so he’s looking at her, their eyes meeting.

“If all the space in the universe was put between us, I’d still love you.  I’d still wait for you.  I’d still come for you.”

Keith smiles, so pretty Kuro knows his heart is trying to wrangle itself out of his chest.

Kuro turns over so he can wind both arms around her, pull her close, bury his nose in her hair.  She nuzzles into his chest.

“Then I’d make you _come_ for me,” he growls against her hair.  She squeals and slaps his shoulder, trying to fight away from him, but Kuro only wrestles her closer, where their grinning mouths can meet in a hot kiss, so oddly perfect in its own little way.

Oddly perfect fits them just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk fem keith with me on twitter @KinkyKeithy


End file.
